


Crime City Nightmare, Debonair Dream Life

by Godfather_Pimpbury_Doughboy



Series: Crime City Nightmare, Debonair Dream Life [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: ALSO FAMILY IS USED A LOT, FOUNDING FAMILY SURE WHY NOT, Gen, I don't know what to fucking put here, Multi, No Beta we die like Pyrrha in volume 3, Other, So yeah, Trigger Warnings, random shit, stuff like that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29509701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godfather_Pimpbury_Doughboy/pseuds/Godfather_Pimpbury_Doughboy
Summary: The world of Remnant is just a little bit different. Both factions make sure of it.The Grimm Side, the rings whose lands belong to those from below. Whose only structure of authority are crime families with power over everyone else. Their choice for their Inheritor is always decided through violent, cruel, and highly illegal means.The Terrace, the rings who belong up and above. Home to the Debonairs, high-class people who love to indulge, splurge, and live life in comfort. Never caring of the plights of others. A land ruled by Vanity, pride, and a love for their freedom. Their choice for Inheritor is always widely contested, in a highly surprising way.Each side has their leaders, each side has their story. But they each belong to an equally cruel fate.Unfortunately for those two Inheritors, fate is a sleeping slave. And the two must work together that it stays that way.Or else the world they know off could all come crashing down.
Series: Crime City Nightmare, Debonair Dream Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167779
Kudos: 1





	Crime City Nightmare, Debonair Dream Life

**Author's Note:**

> Crime City Nightmare, Debonair Dream Life.  
> Basically, an excuse to make a Mafia Boss! Jaune AU. I’ll answer any questions in ask.
> 
> Also trigger warning

There was a bit of a misconception about the "Inheritance". And if he learned anything from his experiences, misconceptions can lead often to devastation of different magnitudes.

Even more so if you're one of the "Contestants" after it.

Being a contestant has its perks. Power, Fortune, Safety. You want it, you have it. The title gives meaning to your name, respect, and fear alongside it. And in a place such as the Grimm Side, well. That meant a lot of things, and people will do anything for it.

Backstabbing, bribery, assassinations. Any crime you can think of has already been committed. It was a normal thing here.

Except for tax fraud, no-one messes with the taxmen.

Why would people care for such a thing? Simple. Who wouldn't want to be a literal God?

But that's only as long as you were in the running. If you're gone, well.

There's a saying of sorts, with an origin befitting of it.

"Better the man born down below, then the rich sent down"

Such is the life of those who reside on the Grimm Side. The Debonairs up at the other end probably couldn't handle it. They most likely never had to get their hands dirty. Satisfied with calling the Grimm Side residents names, turning their noses up, and thinking of their meaningless insults a win.

Ren on the other hand? He didn't care for such things. He was happy where he was stationed, serving the Boss as the "Consigliere" of the Family.

'A title that I should never have deserved.' Ren silently thought to himself.

The white-knuckled hands gripping the rail guards, on the other hand, disagreed quite a bit.

Though he didn't think too much of it. As long as he still served a use, then he was fine in taking whatever punishment he was delivered. After all, if it wasn't for him. Well, it might have been Ren that was eaten by the Grimm.

And not like the little traitor he had just thrown to the Beowulves.

Cries could be heard wailing out, sounds of pain screaming into the large "Pit" If you could call it that.

He looked back down at his recent garbage disposal. Standing behind a five-foot rail guard made of solid Terrarunic steel. A small obstacle of metal separating him from death.

Ren stared as the many various sized Beowulves tore into the man's flesh. The traits of which could still be made out even amongst the swarm of darkness that hungered into his flesh.

Silver hair, facial hair, gray iris contrasting against the black sclera of his eyes. And a male face contorted by the utter terror that he had just been subjected to.

He would be to if saw his own innards being chewed on.

What was the man's name again? Mark? Marcus? He didn't bother to remember.

The only thing he'll allow into his memory about the traitor is his screams.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHH! PLEASE! MAKE THEM STOP! AAAAHHHH! MAKE THEM STO-"

A memory cut short as what seemed to be a young Beowulf clamped down its fangs into the rat's throat. What a way to go, no honor, no glory, no nothing.

Just eaten alive by a bunch of farm animals. Fitting for someone who would betray even Family.

He'd have to take note of that Beowulf later, it might make a fine meal for the Boss.

Finally deciding to face the music, he took a sharp right from where he stood. Walking through the exit door. He walked along the hallway until he faced a spiral staircase. Having exited the observatory of the Beo-Silo, he walked into the nearest washroom. He knew the outline of the building like it was the back of his hand.

He made it after all.

A near-autonomous building meant to harvest the finest of Beowulf meat. A revolutionary design that had propelled him to the ranks. Not like he needed it, Ren was more than happy with the praise he had received. He doesn't mind if he loses it now.

(His body once again disagreed with his thoughts as the knuckles around his fist turned even paler.)

He looked into the mirror of a stall. Taking in his appearance. He needed to look presentable at all times, especially if he were to meet the boss now. No point in fancy clothes if they were never used.

Taking a comb from his hidden pocket, he combed back his black hair, tying it to a low hanging ponytail, reaching right in-between his shoulder blades. He swept his bangs to the side. Revealing his eyes, they were lustrous pink, just like the stripe of bangs he has, colliding with the darkness of his sclera. The very same as the traitor. Well, the very same as anyone really.

The Debonair's say eyes are the window to the soul. That'd be one of the only things they said that was the truth.

It was a sign to which side you belonged. The Grimm Side had darkness behind theirs, while the Debonairs had light. Such an obvious contrast to point out their opposition.

Though one of the more glaring differences would definitely be the half mask he wore. It was a sign of status, power, and wealth. His was positioned to the right side. Encompassing the forehead to the chin. A pure white bony mask with a red wisp of smoke coming from it, a hole for his right eye to see through. The edge was shaped in that of his father's dagger. The blade dripping down from the side. Other than that, it was a completely blank slate. A stylistic choice Ren made himself to honor him.

Finally, he assessed his suit. An Adel branded Coat, with a matching vest and brand below it. Under that vest was a forest green shirt. Its color is hidden even more thanks to the black-tie on top of it. His pant and shoes were simpler. Although still the same brand and material as the top. The shoes, on the other hand, were custom made of Nuckelavee leather. One that he killed himself.

He took a sharp breath of air, all of his emotions threatening to burst.

And now, there was nothing. Just plain, and simple acceptance.

'I guess there's nothing else left for me to do.'

Of a fate resigned.

He walked out the back and into the open, exiting out of the Beo-Silo. Only to face a platoon of four slick, expensive-looking, black cars surrounding a limousine.

A couple of faceless men and women were lined up on either side of the path leading to the Limo's open door, Well, faceless in the sense their masks were blank slates, they only had eye sockets. No nose, no lips, and no designs. They all have various missing fingers on them. Some have all of theirs, some have a few missing. That and along with their different colored eyes and different colored smoke allowed a sense of individuality.

The boss was pretty big on that part, making sure they were a person before anything else. Their black and white suits only made them look intimidating.

Ren would be if he didn't know about the brother and sisters behind those masks. His Family.

He finally entered inside, one of the sisters holding the door for him. She closed the door gently, it was nice to have manners and respect. He looked around his seat. Some expensive wine, a mini-fridge. Nothing much, the high-class comfort only serving him nothing.

'There is nothing for me to do but wait it seems.'

He looked back at the men and women outside. Seeing them disperse and entering the various vehicles surrounding them. And then, they moved. They all moved as one coherent unit, escorting him to his punishment. Final or not, he won't know until he meets them.

The pancake incident, his promotion, the turf conquest, the paintball massacre.

Deciding that he's done all that he could, he let himself go into his thoughts. Reminiscing, remembering all the fond memories he has.

The recruitment. The day he was taken into the Family.

'The people I call family, the people I call brothers and sister. I've let them down, haven't I?'

A sudden bump of the road brought him out of his stupor. Snapping him back to reality.

He looked out the window once more and saw the outside plains of the Grimm Side. Tallgrass littering the hills and fields, but as he looked further into the horizon. He saw the grass grow taller, changing color and becoming as tall as-

'Trees, pink-leafed trees...The Sakura Forest? But why? Wouldn't the Emerald forest have been a better option?'

He pandered to himself, questions and thoughts racing around his head. And just as fast he silenced them, his semblance turning off any other emotion.

From everything to nothing.

He knew why he was here already, he didn't need to know anything else. It was their meeting place, the beginning of everything he held dear. Fitting that it would also mark his end.

Time flew by once more, an empty void in place of imagination. Making sure to erase any fear in his heart and mind.

(But he couldn't get rid of the little piece of hope that stuck to his side)

Shadows covered the vehicles as they entered through the forest, following what seemed to be a dirt road splitting the way, not unlike that of a gate. It was wide enough to let three different cars come in at the same time.

It didn't take much longer, the dirt road simply being a straight line with a few turns here and there, and just as many phonies for safety.

Finally, they appeared on the last crossroad, the path leads to a turn to the left or the right. But the squadrons of vehicles kept driving forward. Looking to collide with the Sakura Trees in the middle of the fork.

Any sane person would have turned to either road.

Traps, both of them. Meant to trick you into looping back to the beginning or to escort you out with yourself. If you exited with any extra holes in your body. Well, dead men tell no tales.

And so they crashed.

Or would have if the trees didn't magically disappear. Revealing themselves to be nothing more than highly realistic holograms. There wasn't much difference whether you took a glance or a long hard look. It would still look like the real deal.

You could only tell the difference if you were aware of the existence of it in the first place.

"We're here." Came the voice of the driver, another faceless brother. Magenta eyes looked back to him, no judgment nor pity shown to him. He met him with his lustrous pink iris. The driver gave him a look of understanding of sorts.

The driver parked the limo in an open space in the shape of a square, the Sakura trees lining the edges of the space. The only sign of exit is the straight marble road ahead of them. On the entrance, however, were three people. Suited the same as the other faceless family members. The other cars came trickling in, parking at the corners of the square slot. None of them came out.

They all understood each other, they all knew what was going to happen. Words were unnecessary.

Finally calling back his semblance, Ren allowed himself to think once more. He was flanked on all sides as he exited the Limousine. Two brothers and a sister. Two on either hand and at his six. All of them have some sort of mutilation on their hands.

He didn't need to be guided. He was already familiar with the path.

That and the lined-up marble path filled would have tipped anyone off as to where they were to go.

As so he did, marching forwards with his face held high. As much as he would have wanted to use his semblance to calm his beating heart, he couldn't. He would have used his semblance by now, fear wasn't a very good thing to show to anyone. But this was an exception, hiding his fear would be more insulting to the Boss than showing it.

From where he stood, he could see the pavilion. It was quite large for something so out of the way-side. It had a domed roof, pure white but has a blend of pink in its design. Hiding the color with its surroundings. The color scheme flowed through into its pillars, floor, and railings.

There was a large table in the middle, it was filled with plates and cups. From which two figures were eating. The two most important figures, he corrected himself. Though they weren't the only ones in the pavilion. There were four more figures, two on each side.

On the side of his right was his Boss, his savior, his benefactor. He was his everything, Jaune Arc head of the Arc Family, and the current Inheritor of Salem.

Though not most people knew of the last title. Again, people are very prone to misconceptions.

His blonde hair flowed freely, being seemingly moved by the wind. His bangs always seemed to just be hovering at the right angle. His sky-blue iris conflicted with the dark depths of his eyes. His mask was on the side of his plate. The same design as that of the faceless mask. Jaune's had only two differences, on the mask's forehead was the Arc Crescents. The Family symbol. The other difference was the scar. A four-clawed scratch, a claw on the right eye to the cheek, another a bit above the in-between of the eyes and onto where his bottom lip would be. The third from the left eye to right above the chin. And the last from the left cheek to the side of where there would be his lips.

Where he had gotten it, no-one knows.

His attire consisted of a white overcoat, with the tail ends reaching down to his shins. The color fading to black the further you went down. Tendrils of shadows skirted along the bottom edges of the coat. The lapels were exaggerated as they reached and covered the golden shoulder pads, it was only hidden by the ironed flat lapels if seen from the front. Underneath was a white double-breasted suit. Two belts wrapped around where the buttons appeared to be. A red tie, but at the base of the tie and underneath the collar of the black shirt. Was a little red gem, in the shape of an oval and encased in gold. A window in the shape of a diamond was the only thing that showed the red gem beneath. The same color scheme applied to the pants, with it starting white from the top, and slowly becoming darker until it becomes black at the bottom, synergizing well with the black and pointed boots. A belt held the pant up, though there seemed to be a pack attached to its left, dangling from his side. His hands were covered with white gloves, red hazes originate from it every few seconds. It also bore the Arc Crescents

The two behind him were people he instantly recognized.

Blake Belladonna and Emerald Sustrai, the Boss' personal bodyguards. They were two of the Boss' favorites.

In more ways than one...

Emerald wore a tight and fitted striped, lavender business shirt pairing it with a red bow tie. With a shoulder holster wrapped around her accentuating her breast. Though they also doubled as shoulder pads. The holster came with straps that held down her shirt's midriff. And connects to the twice wrapped overlong belt. Complementing it was white skinny jeans paired with black chaps. The chaps being tucked into her black knee-high boots.

Her weapons, a pair of small revolvers with folding scythed blades were holstered snuggly on her sides. In her hand, however, was a giant kama with a sleek black handle and a heavily curved steel blade. Black smoke seemed to faintly come from it. Her white mask consisted of only covering her right eye. With it growing into a wingtip of sorts to the side, more specifically four eagle feathered wingtips. The mask eye socket covered her dark red eye, a completely black screen with the Arc Family Crescents on it. The other one was free to look over anyone unobstructed.

And that eye was giving him a sideways glance.

Blake Belladonna was the closest to the boss. She was a cat Faunus that acted as both secretary and security, They had some sort of history together. Tough what that history was, only the two of them know.

She wore a black blouse with an equally black suit coat wore in a cape-like manner. A pair of chains linked the collars of the coat, weighing it down. Though they were sleeker and more tight-fitted compared to normal ones. Pairing it with midnight blue boot-cut business pants. Completing the outfit were her black high heels. Other than that, the only reprieve from the dark color scheme was the red bow tied to her blouse's collar and the two gold ring piercings on her right cat ear.

If having black sclera wasn't a dead give-away, having Faunus traits would instantly out you as being from the Grimm Sides. Her hand was constantly on her waist, never letting it leave her touch.

That was because the belt she wore served more than one purpose. The buckle itself was in the shape of the Arc Family Crescents. On her left-side were her weapons. A katana and a cleaver-like sheath, with the sheath being twice the width of the blade. Though they seemed to be one whole unit. With the katana's edge facing away from the sheath's spine. The sheath itself was in the shape of a straight giant cleaver colored in pitch-black. There was a handlebar on the spine as well.

If that wasn't enough, the handlebar served as a pistol. The handle of the pistol being an eighty-degree angle. The handle for the pistol would slide outback, allowing a fresh magazine to be inserted from the top. It chambered high-caliber dust ammunition, the end of the barrel aligned with where the katana's hilt would meet the sheath. The sheath itself was as long as her legs.

Though stowed away, they gave off a faint smoke from where the blades would be inserted.

The only reason he knew about their weapons, was because he put the order himself. It was unfortunate that they had to get rid of the manufacturer, but snitches dug ditches.

It also, unfortunately, led to the dubbed "Paintball Incident".

Ren let himself have a slight chuckle, a little joy before his demise. He broke a few bones himself. Oh and others as well.

As he walked towards the table, along with his three escorts. He could finally place sounds to the exchange that the two figures were having.

Jaune stabbed a fork to a piece of a green plant, it was called broccoli if Ren remembers correctly, and placed it on his mouth. Slowly chewing it, the man he called Boss gave the other he sat across an impressed look.

"You know, I got to say, this stuff is delicious. Not as good as dinosaur nuggies but hey, pretty good." Jaune slowly put the fork down back to his plate. Filled with steak and plants. He gave the other man a smirk and leaned forward.

"So I do have to ask again, when are we getting the shipment of soil? You know how it is out here in the Grimm Side. Can't grow anything, can't make anything."

"I could ask you the same, we've been waiting for that shipment of Beowulf meat for quite a while now."

"A complication came up, a traitor ended up getting to it. Competition, you know the drill here."

"Quite, well I do imagine that 400 containers worth of Beowulf meat would be troublesome to ship without notice. Especially with such conditions in your position."

"It really is Ozzy, it really is. So you just got to appreciate the effort I put into this you know?"

"Hmm, fine. We'll set the shipment of it a week earlier. But I also expect yours to be within the same time frame."

Jaune smiled at the man. "You've got yourself a deal! Or well, a better deal?"

"Hmhm, I presume so." The white-haired man opposite to him chuckled. A smile on his lips as well.

A very recognizable laugh. He knew who this person was. Ozpin Boulevard, the current leader of the Debonairs. And also the current Inheritor of Ozma.

He could finally make out what outfit he was wearing, a very tacky outfit to be precise. He had his mint green scarf wrapped comfortably around his neck. His white suit coat layered above the scarf was worn in a cape-like fashion. The inside of the coat is the same shade of green. He also wore a double-breasted suit. A shade of dark green on the left side of the suit, and the right side a pure white. The edges of the suit had silver linings along with it. Overlapping the suit was a black metallic corset belt with silver patterns. And over the corset belt at the middle was a green gem, also encased with intricate silver caging. His white pants were line with silver as well. From the hems to the pockets. Matching the silver pointed shoes he wore. His white gloves were connected to green bracelets that seemed to stay still where they stood. Intricate silver patterns adorned it. His amber eyes, smug smirk, and shaggy hair signified he knew of his choice.

It seems the two had agreed to a deal of sorts, a private meeting discussing further futures for Remnant. If their smiles and recent conversation were to go by.

It was their job after all, as the Inheritors of their respective Gods. They acted as a sort of leader between the two sides.

Though neither's people knew of it.

Unfortunately, their people don't see it that way. Should news of the two inheritors ever meeting like this get out. It would have sparked outrage throughout the Rings. And maybe even worse.

Other than each Inheritor's close subordinates, only the trusted ones and the ones that can keep their mouth shut were allowed in the know. The rest of the world knows nothing of it.

The two by the Debonair leader were what he could only assume to be bodyguards. Understandable, the Boss had his pair as well.

A buxom blonde and a petite princess from the looks of it. Debonair's loved vanity huh.

The blonde herself was suited in with a white coat with silver padded shoulders, a yellow shirt buttoned beneath it. A purple ribbon hanged style in a bow tie on her shirt collar. The coat and shirt were tightly secured in a metallic corset belt, with silver patterns in the image of flames. She wore tight, white pants. Of which had an open part on her outer thighs. Showing smooth and creamy skin. The hems of the opening were also laced with silver lines. The pants were tucked into white knee-high boots.

The boot's top edge was shaped into a v, which had silver trimmings. On top of her pants, she also wore a clear overskirt, a small parting in between her pelvis separating it and reached only to her hamstrings. She wore no gloves, instead, she was prepared with yellow and black gauntlets spanning up to her forearm. And encasing her hands and fingers. They were engraved with designs of a flaming dragon, looping around the gauntlet.

The princess seemed a bit more reserved. She wore a cape with the inside being a snowy blue and the out a pure white, line with silver and marked with a snow motif. The snowflakes being made out of silver as well. She was the only of the girls to be wearing a skirt. A white skirt with silver frills that reached down to her knees to be exact. It matched well with her pale suit and snowy blue blouse. Her heels added to her secretary-like appearance.

Quite a fitting ensemble. On her side was a rapier with intricate designs graved into the handles and guard. Except for a cylinder chamber of different colors seemed to occupy where the basket guard would be. The chamber was guarded by a cage of four-pronged silver talons. All converging towards the center.

As he was assessing the Debonair's bodyguards with his eyes, his feet finally led him in front of the entrance.

"He's here, Boss."

A small silence passes by, creating tension in the air. The two bodyguards behind Ozpin could only guess as to what was happening.

The tension kept building, just as Blake decided to break it.

"Mmm... I can see him too..."

He let himself take one more bite of his plate before wiping himself with a napkin.

Jaune looked straight ahead of him, letting a "smile" spread across his lips.

"Speaking of deals Ozpin. Here's the thing I wanted to show you... You can decide not to watch if you want. Your choice." Jaune stood up, patting himself.

"Oh! And your bodyguards can too. Especially them"

The two in question perked up, wondering what they were about to be shown.

It was a good thing they hadn't eaten.

He slowly walked up to where Ren was standing. A confident gait in his form. No swagger, no unnecessary movement, and hands in his pocket. He stopped briefly in front of the entrance before quickly bringing his hands up together.

*Clap* *Clap*

"Girls!"

His two bodyguards behind him moved quickly, disappearing from anyone's sight. Catching Ozpin's bodyguards by surprise.

Ren knew their secret though, Blake had her shadows. And Emerald her illusions.

Seeing him finally approach, the usual friendly smile Ren would usually receive wasn't there. Instead replaced with a slight frown and an emotionless look occupied his face.

Ren did the only thing he could think off, one that his escorts shared.

They kneeled.

"Good. Seems you know where your place is, right now at least." Did he sound, disappointed? He could understand, he was disappointed in himself too. He let the Family down.

He made a mistake, one that almost cost them greatly.

"Do you have anything to say to me? Ren?" Jaune asked.

"Only one thing."

He brought his head up slowly, still kneeling at the towering presence in front of him. And eventually, he met his eyes. Lustrous pink to Sky blue as he let the words flow out without hesitation.

"I'm sorry."

Jaune looked down at him, unknown to Ren. His eyes were filled with melancholy and sadness. Eyes that pleaded for him not to say anything else and just let the situation go.

But he had a reputation to keep. He let his voice become one with authority, speaking out a statement he's said multiple times already.

"Sorry isn't going to cut it, Ren, you know what you have to do." It honestly wasn't, even if he was his Consigliere. He still needed to be punished the same as any subordinate.

But he could still find a way. And he did, an offer he gave to every subordinate he had to unjustly punish.

"I can give you two choices Ren. You already know what those are."

Indeed he did, he's seen it enough times already. He's heard and said those lines before.

"You have committed the crime of having vouched for a traitor. And let him into our ranks. Offer yourself, or offer your self. The choice is yours, Ren."

As he spoke those words, Blade and Emerald came walking back from the direction that Ren came. Both holding the tools for his punishment, if you could even call it that.

Blake gently placed the small wooden stool in front of him. Taking her place beside Jaune. While Emerald placed the cutting board on top of it and returning quickly behind him.

Finally, the boss held his two hands two the gem on his tie, a red light shimmered as he pulled out two items from it. A pen, and a knife. He gave them a quick flip. Holding out the handles towards Ren.

He was offered a way out, a simple punishment in the form of a little writing tool. A way to avoid any blood.

And Ren, without hesitation.

Reached for the knife.

The pen meant he'd have to step down. Abandon the life he had now and instead live off the money he earned. He had more than enough. It could last him till his Elden phase. He was more than wealthy.

But that wasn't a punishment. That was a death sentence.

Ren took the handkerchief from his breast pocket and placed it above the cutting board. He took his left hand and put it on top, he balled it into a fist letting his pinky finger extended.

To be part of the Grimm Side without family was a death sentence.

No, a fate worst than death.

And so without it showing, he let himself be felt relieved.

There only ever was just one option.

He stared at Jaune, and he stared right back. A straight face was all he could see, never noticing the conflict in his Boss' mind.

He took a breath.

And let the blade pass through.

He could hear the gasp of the Debonair's bodyguards. The white-haired princess seemed almost ready to throw up, while the blonde had only the horror on her face.

Disgusting, the people at the top will truly never know what the people below go through.

Do they think this horrifying? To think that he'd even be given the option to stay was mercy beyond anyone else could give.

Mercy that only someone as benevolent as his Boss would allow.

The mercy he didn't deserve.

He let the blade pass through his ring finger as well. For good measure.

The pain was great, but the relief that he would still stay was more than enough to compensate.

Blake kneeled on one knee, carefully wrapping the cut fingers with the cloth it stood in. She gave him a cursory glance and a few words.

"Good choice, I expected nothing less."

With that said, she disappeared once again from everyone's sight. Emerald merely picked up the stool and cutting board and left to where she got them from.

Ren's finger bled and hurt. But he was still part of the Family. And that was all that mattered.

Jaune sat down on one knee, going down the same level as him. He looked him in the eye.

"I'm sorry, Ren. I really am."

Ren, let himself cry. He was blessed to be part of such a loving Family.

"It shouldn't be you apologizing, Boss." Jaune let himself smile lightly.

"Hmm, how many times do I have to tell you? Call me Jaune, not the boss." Ren stared at him, simply taking in his expression.

"Now go on, get back to your station. You still have some stuff to take care of right? You can take a break then."

If only he could put them into words.

He really was just kind. A rare trait to find in anyone. Especially someone as powerful as Jaune. And for that he was grateful, no it was more than that.

It was a feeling.

Fortunately, his tears did it for him.

Jaune started wrapping his hands around him until he held him in an embrace. He gave a peck on Ren's forehead and ruffled his hair, not unlike a father with his children. Ren cried harder, making the hug slightly tighter. Not minding the blood or tears staining his suit.

"You're not just Family, you're a friend."

**Author's Note:**

> OK! So, yeah. Mafia AU! Let me know what you guys think. If you have questions feel free to send in an ask via tumblr! I encourage it actually!
> 
> Link is here-> https://godfather-doughboy.tumblr.com
> 
> Also, thanks you to my Dad for telling me I had apparently med a real life Russian Mob Boss. It kind of spiraled from their and into this story. And if you're wondering why the Debonairs are their or who they are. Well, just ask.


End file.
